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[Intro]
Let’s do some history, who is Malcolm X?
A fighter for freedom
George Washington Carver?
A scientist
Shirley Chisholm?
First black congress woman
Mary McLeod Bethune?
An educator
Marian Anderson?
An opera singer
Duke Ellington?
A jazz composer

[Verse 1]
What about the life of Marcus Garvey, we all know Martin
Wouldn’t have your light, if it wasn’t for my darkness
Blacker than the panther on the jacket of Huey P. Newton
And Bobby Seale, a few of us rotten still
We built this country off blood and sweat
Tear drops and pick cotton in mud we step
Momma Harriet Tubman was a woman so real
Only woman in history with a face on a bill
Besides Hillary Clinton, who we speak of America
Original man yet they treat us inferior
I put that on the soul of Nat Turner
The memory of Sojourner
And the others no longer with us
I’m admittin’ I’m black and I’m proud

[Chorus]
Sing it loud
Sing it loud
I’m black and I’m proud
Sing it loud
Sing it loud

[Verse 2]
Brother Clarence 13X was a hero to me
Felt like a Five Percenter was the thing to be
In the wild wild west I still pray to the east
MJ on the speakers MJ’s on my feet
Before Mike and Mayweather came Muhammad Ali
Only difference between ‘em, he did it with dignity
Doctor Carter G. Woodson, found black history
Doctor Vivien Thomas, the first heart surgery
Kwame Ture used to be Stokely Carmichael
Bagged Mariam Makeba definitely was a leader
In his own right ‘Keba was diva in her own light
Before ‘Yonce married Jay, Ashanti, Brandy
Keyshia Cole, Lauryn Hill if you’re speaking soul
I fell in love with TLC when I was three years old
Angela Davis bailed out by a Fresnan
It was about community wasn’t about complexion
Elijah and Fard, they were writin’ for Allah
Pictures of Bob Marley and Selassie on my wall
‘Til the day they free [?], Max B, and Bobby Shmurda
We all on trial eminently since a child
I’m black and I’m proud

[Chorus]
Sing it loud
Sing it loud
I’m black and I’m proud
Sing it loud
Sing it loud

[Tag]
Yo Pierre, you wanna come out here?

[Intro]
In New York I Milly Rock, hide it in my sock
Running from an opp, and I shoot at opp (what)
And I’m on the block (what, what, what)
And I’m on the block (what)
In New York I Milly Rock (hello?) hide it in my sock (what)
Hide it in my sock (what) selling that rerock (what, what, what, what, what)

[Hook]
In New York I Milly Rock, hide it in my sock
Used to sell rerock, running from the cops
Shooting at the opps (Yo Pierre, you wanna come out here?)
Shooting at the opps, cause I run they block
Gimme top (top) in my drop-top
All these hoes gon’ flock (flock, flock) when I drop (drop, drop)
All these hoes gon’ flock (flock, flock) when I drop (drop, drop)
All these hoes gon’ flock (flock, flock) when I drop (drop, drop)

[Verse]
Woo, woo, woo, woo
Woo, woo, woo, woo
All these hoes want cash, all these hoes want bags
Fucking on yo’ bitch, uh, I’m her dad
All these niggas sound like cash (sound like cash)
I’m a soldier, damn, I thought I told you
Shootin’ like a soldier, like I’m from Magnolia
All these, niggas, always, fold
Big, bank, never, fold
Sippin, Act’, fill that shit slowly
Bitches, on me, say she like my clothing
I’m in London, Young Carti global
Designer is on me, call it dirty laundry
All these bitches want Young Carti, Young Carti (yeah)
Ay, Young Carti, Young Carti (what)
Young Carti, Young Carti (yeah)
All of your bitches they loose
All of your bitches they loose
All of my bitches they rich
And they stay rockin’ that Rick
What, what, huh, what, what, huh
Rich, rich, Cash Carti, bitch
Rich, bitch, got a rich clique
I’m suckin’ on the clit, she suckin’ on the dick
Give that hoe a tip, told her "Buy some kicks"
Then I brush my teeth, pop up in a whip
Glocky in the whip, glocky in the whip
And I’m cocky, fuckin’ on a thotty
She just wanna plot me, bitch can’t stop me
I’m riding in a Mazi, this ain’t even my Mazi
Oh, that’s not yo’ thottie, yo’ bitch look like a aunty
Walked in with Ashanti, damn, that look like Shanti
Damn, that look like Carti, I think dat be Young Carti
Heard he spent a hunnid on a fucking watch piece, that’s filthy

[Hook]
In New York I Milly Rock, hide it in my sock
Running from an opp, then I shoot at opp
And I’m on the block
And I’m on the block
In New York I Milly Rock, hide it in my sock
Hide in my sock, selling that rerock
What, what, what, what, what
In New York I Milly Rock, hide it in my sock
Use to sell rerock, running from the cops
Shooting at the opps, you know what I’m sayin’?

[Outro]
Yo, Pierre, you wanna come out here?
Bitch ass nigga, fuck that nigga man!

[Verse One]
Let me take it back to my childhood
When Six Flags was still called Wild World
Where I had every race as a neighbor
We were all working class trying to make it out of our hood
My best friend back then was a white kid
We was tight he liked the same things I did
Despite us being different colors, man
We were tight as Elmer’s, and we called each other brothers
While I was trying to keep my Nikes clean
He was trying to scuff his Chucks up
He was grunge, I was fresh we were young
And we cuss along to rap trying to sneaking into punk clubs
But things changed when his pops got laid off
He blamed my father for the loss of his job
He said immigrants robbed citizens jobs
And I better never set foot again in his yard
As we became adults in a cult called America, he got himself a job as an officer of law
My thoughts got blacker and his views got cracker
There was no way backwards, to the roots at heart
Many years apart, I recognized him in the news
He shot a black man that was sitting in his car
Near the same park where we used to shoot hoops
And all I could blame was the cause

[Hook]
You grew up
No you didn’t change
You were made the same
As those before you came
You grew up
All our growing pains
Were given like our names
You just bought the blame
You grew up

[Verse Two]
You ever have a friend that became a fanatic
Most of you all haven’t
But if you ever did
You’d understand the one thing they all have in common
That somebody took advantage of their damage as a kid
I knew a guy who’s folks were professors
Proof in the flesh that Allah was a blesser
Grew up in a mid-western town, where there weren’t many brown people he could seek reflection
Got picked on in school during lectures
Graduated hating everybody in his class
Picked on because he prayed five to the east
And he didn’t eat meat that Allah said was bad
One day a man approached him in a mosque
Changed his life when he asked him a question
Do you ever feel your life was a loss
And what if I could teach you that life is a weapon
Attracted strong to the feeling of acceptance
He was soon gone with delusions of a cause
People of the present had faces of the past, make it easier to blast them if he feel they did him wrong
You can raise a child in a house full of love
But can’t keep them safe in a world full of hate
So he blew up
The only mistake that could hold all the blame

[Hook]
You grew up
No you didn’t change
You were made the same
As those before you came
You grew up
All our growing pains
Were given like our names
You just bought the blame
You grew up

[Verse Three]
My heart’s a jug and when I was born it was filled with love
It ranneth over, life ran me over till I spilled the blood
I poured the cups and I left it up you to say enough
Never ending, never quenching, I sealed it up
Tried to change my reality but settled for, real enough
Life is better when you’re thinking lesser go on give it up
When I was younger I was so determined I would change it all Couldn’t fly but wasn’t chained to fall
So where is it I put the blame and cause
Well, I grew up

Woo, yeah, yeah, yeah
You already know
Young Tiller
Let’s go
Gucci on my belt, bought a necklace for myself
Bought Giuseppe for myself, spent them blessings on myself
Donatello, that’s a killer, I smoke purple out the shelf
She want Birkin, she want, Gucci purse, she want Chanel, got it
I spend that ’cause I earned it for myself
Got my shawty out the way and now I’m splurging on myself
You should worry ’bout yourself, I’ve been working on myself
I’ve been balling like I’m Curry, need a jersey for myself (I need a jersey for myself)
What’s next? I’m nervous for myself
If I changed, I became a better version of myself
Bought a chain, bought two more, yeah, I deserve that for myself
And my neighbors look at me like, "How he purchase that himself?"
‘Cause I’m a seven figure, self-made nigga
Blow the money, get it back the next day nigga (made it back, yeah)
Wow, what the check say, nigga?
I’m getting paid, nigga, need a chef and maid, nigga
And a Gucci on my belt, bought a necklace for myself
Bought Giuseppe for myself, spent them blessings on myself
Donatello, that’s a killer, I smoke purple out the shelf
She want Birkin, she want, Gucci purse, she want Chanel, got it
Must’ve heard a hundred niggas say they made me (I made that nigga!)
So, which one you niggas made me?
Don’t know who you talking to, not me, oh no, you can’t be
They wan’ be my fam, but my crew is sucker-lame free (Lame free)
I just want a yacht and a jet-ski
Pull up on your block, Icy Hot, Wayne Gretzkey (I pull up, pull up)
Fucking con artist, boy, you sketchy
Pretty but she messy, only wanna sex me
‘Cause I’m a Seven figure, self-made nigga
Blow the money, get it back the next day nigga (made it back, yeah)
Wow, what the check say, nigga?
I’m getting paid, nigga, need a chef and maid, nigga
Count that mula with my thumb
502, that’s where I’m from
Used to stay on Hazelwood
You see trouble then you run (Run)
Word to Joker Noble, we don’t do this shit for fun
100 million, then I’m done
Poochie laid out in the sun
Like I want
Gucci on my belt, bought a necklace for myself
Bought Giuseppe for myself, spent them blessings on myself
Donatello, that’s a killer, I smoke purple out the shelf
She want Birkin, she want, Gucci purse, she want Chanel, got it
Yeah, yeah, Gucci on my belt
Yeah, she want Gucci on her belt
Gucci on her purse
Gucci on that
Yeah

[Intro: Talib Kweli]
Take it to the top
Yea, that’s where we at with it
Take it to the top
Just cause you are a character
Don’t mean you have character
We taking stock right now
You ready? Let’s go

[Verse 1: Talib Kweli]
A wise man know what he know and what he doesn’t
If he’s not really sure what he’s saying, he don’t discuss it
A righteous man walks the earth without judgment
And loves his enemies enough to deliver justice
A pious man relies on religion for his direction
At times he introspective, but his bible he’ll never question
A dying man will make a confession, try to get into heaven
Thinking his lifestyle is blocking his blessing
A violent man will stock up on weapons and go to war for his
Get post-traumatic stress disorder, become an officer
A man of peace uses his words in different mediums
He’ll bleed for his beliefs practicing civil disobedience
An honest man knows only lies are scared of the truth
His word is his bond, but his action’s always to prove
A faithful man never need evidence to believe
But still he gotta work for the blessings that he receives
Let’s go

[Chorus: Yummy Bingham]
Sometimes it’s hard to believe
In what you don’t see, I understand
But the picture is so much bigger
Than what we could even imagine
It’s hard to feel better
When the weight of the world make you feel sadder
Put your faith into action
Heads up and eyes open

[Verse 2: Rick Ross]
Top tier niggas blossomed in the basement
All the nights that we were lacking those refreshments
Rain down, thunder storm with the flows
Articulate with the bounce, now I’m back like I’m Derrick Rose
Once the one on the bench with the snotty nose
Never [?] would hold me when I was cold
Communion Sunday, my twenties, went in the [?]
Forgive me lord for them bitches the night before
[?] and these Bentleys I can’t afford
Gotta be the example for children to do their chores
Blowing weed smoke on the cover of The Source
Rolling Stones [?] was the boss
Fallen soldier on his own so we march
Roll up a bag of that weed, therefore I spark
Recite the Quran, I’m in the dark
Devil knocking on my door, he like a narc

[Chorus: Yummy Bingham]
Sometimes it’s hard to believe
In what you don’t see, I understand
But the picture is so much bigger
Than what we could even imagine
It’s hard to feel better
When the weight of the world make you feel sadder
Put your faith into action
Heads up and eyes open

[Verse 3: Talib Kweli]
No excuses, if I start it then I’ll see it through
God is what I see in you, so you might as well believe in you
Think what you see on TV’s true? The media deceiving you
They misrepresent and misquote and then they misleading you
Belief is a funny thing, in case you’re wondering
If they want the ring, they coming for the throne like they the sons of kings
These average rappers is acting up for the dough
Yea I tell you what I believe, but I back it up with what I know
It’s the facts versus the facts simile, your raps killing me
My last victory was great moments of Black history
I celebrated with a bottle I just brought back from Italy
And some loud, I got super packs like I backed Hillary
Lost in desire, I walked through the devil’s fire
I inspire the resurrection of kings like Hezekiah
The trust you put in me to be a beast with this rhyming
That’s where the rubber meets the road and where your faith meets science
Let’s go

[Chorus: Yummy Bingham]
Sometimes it’s hard to believe
In what you don’t see, I understand
But the picture is so much bigger
Than what we could even imagine
It’s hard to feel better
When the weight of the world make you feel sadder
Put your faith into action
Heads up and eyes open

[Outro: Talib Kweli & Yummy Bingham]
Take it to the top, take it to the top
Take it to the top, take it to the top
Take it to the top, take it to the top